


Fight as Long as we Live

by wildforce71



Series: Not what they Appear [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Bilbo learns something, Gen, H/C if you squint, I know shocking isn't it, Kili is not actually an idiot, lots of talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:59:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1267435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildforce71/pseuds/wildforce71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo offers to help Kili, and ends up learning a few things about Dwarves in general and Kili in particular.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight as Long as we Live

"That is a nasty looking wound."

Kíli looked up, startled. Bilbo was hovering a few feet away, eyes locked on his injured arm.

"Do you want me to fetch Fíli, or Oin? They could help..."

"No. It's nothing." Kíli turned back to his work. He'd hoped he wouldn't be missed, and the tiny inlet he was sitting by should have been small enough that he'd be overlooked by anyone going for water.

Bilbo was still hovering. Kíli ignored him for as long as he could, focusing on trying to wrap the bandage one handed.

"Can I please help?" Bilbo asked finally. "I won't tell the others, if you don't want, but you can't do that by yourself."

"It's nothing," Kíli said again, irritated. "I just took some skin off it."

Bilbo took a few steps closer. "I don't know a lot about archery," he said carefully. "But you wear a gauntlet on that arm, yes? So the string doesn't cut you when you release? You can't strap a gauntlet over a bulky bandage, or over a wound like that. Let me wrap it."

Kíli scowled down at his arm. "Thank you," he said finally.

"I won't tell the others," Bilbo promised again, coming to sit beside him.

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"Just keep your arm out." He carefully unwrapped the bandage, studying the revealed wound. It looked messy, but it wasn't serious; Kíli had taken some layers of skin off, and it probably hurt, but it would heal. "On the rocks earlier?"

"Yes, when I slipped. My bracer shifted."

"Bracer," Bilbo repeated, apparently trying to memorise the word. "Have you cleaned it?" he added briskly.

"Yes."

"All right." Bilbo carefully pressed one end of the bandage against his arm, starting a slow wrap, paying attention to make sure it was as flat as possible. "There's an old scar there."

"Yes," Kíli agreed.

"What happened?"

Kíli was silent, and Bilbo looked up. "I'm sorry, is that something I shouldn't ask? I never know what's safe with you Dwarves. I'm sorry. Pretend I didn't say anything."

"No, that's not...it's not something that you shouldn't ask about, not in general. It's just - that one."

Bilbo continued his work. "I don't know much about Dwarves, Kíli, you know that. But you're not very old, are you?"

"I'm an adult."

"Yes. But there are adults, and there are adults; and I think you're young."

Kíli watched him for a moment. "Yes. Fíli, Ori, and me, and I'm younger than any of them. And you, Master Hobbit? Are you an adult?"

"Yes. Hobbits become adults at thirty three. I'm fifty." Bilbo glanced up, catching his eye. "Foolish tradition, deciding when someone is an adult. Deeds, not years."

"Deeds," Kíli murmured.

"Deeds and experience. And scars." Bilbo unwound the bandage a little to smooth it out.

"That scar does not make me an adult. It makes me a child."

Bilbo snorted faintly. "Of all the things that –“

"That what?"

"Scars. Scars are lessons learned, Kíli. Or lessons, anyway. They don't make you anything you aren't."

Kíli smiled faintly. "You are wise, Master Hobbit."

"I know some people who'd argue with you on that one. Is that too tight?"

Kíli fisted his hand, turning it. "No. That's perfect. Thank you."

"Let me..." Bilbo picked up the bracer, strapping it back on. One of the buckles was damaged and he had to struggle with it for a moment. "There. Good?"

"Yes."

"Will you let me check it for you later?" Kíli grimaced, and Bilbo added, "I promised I wouldn't say anything, and I won't. But it does need to be watched."

"You are wise, and kind. I gratefully accept." He caught Bilbo's look and smiled. "Didn't know I could be courtly?"

"No," Bilbo said honestly. "I mean, not that you're not...you're very..."

Kíli laughed at the look on his face. "I'm not very courtly. I'm very young."

"Yes," Bilbo agreed in relief. "Aren't you?"

Kíli considered, absently fisting and relaxing his hand to loosen it. "Thorin is King Under the Mountain," he said after a moment.

"Yes," Bilbo agreed.

"Fíli and I are his heirs. And Fíli's older than me. We've both learned, but - it weighs heavier on him; Thorin expects more of him. He needs to remember to laugh sometimes. That's what I'm for."

"So you do it on purpose? Act the fool, make the others laugh?"

"What does it bother me if they laugh? I know who I am. Fíli knows who I am. That's all I care about." He leaned back on his good hand, watching the water flow past. "Kings - any king, any good king, will tell you it's a difficult thing, to lead. Harder for Thorin than most; harder for Fíli than most heirs, because he sees what it's done to Thorin. To feel so responsible, the hopes of an entire people resting on him, and be unable to help. A king must provide for his people, protect them and keep them safe from harm. Thorin can't do it, no matter how he tries. Fíli fears he won't be able to. If I can make him forget that, for a moment, a heartbeat, it's worth having the others roll their eyes and look away and call me a child. I don't care what they think. I don't."

"Is that why you don't want him to know you're hurt?"

"This is nothing." Kíli raised his arm, studying the bracer. "It's nothing. But he'll fret over it. Easier not to let him know, if I can help."

"What happens when you take the throne? If the other dwarves think you're the tagalong little brother? How will you rule them?"

"I'll never take the throne, Master Hobbit. Thorin, and Fíli, but not me. But if I did...things will be different by then. I'll be different by then." He lifted his face towards the east, towards the distant Lonely Mountain. "Everything will be different in Erebor."

Bilbo nodded, slowly. "I wish I knew more about your people than I do, Master Dwarf."

Kíli nodded, to show that he'd heard, but he was thinking furiously, trying to decide how to explain. He'd never thought about his people before, not the way he needed to now.

Bilbo waited patiently, looking across the river.

"We are Dwarves of Durin's line," he said finally. "We claimed two homelands; Khazad-Dum, the Dwarrowdelf; and Erebor. Both are lost to us, stolen from us. We have no home; Fíli and I grew up on the road, moving anywhere there was work, anywhere Dwarves were tolerated."

He paused, but Bilbo was silent, and after a moment he continued, "Our culture is all we have, Master Hobbit. It keeps us together, it tells us who we are and who we will become, where we came from and where we are going. We don't resent your questions - I don't resent your questions - but our heritage is ours. It's not for others, even those we like so well as you."

"I understand," Bilbo murmured. "But it makes it very hard to talk to you."

Kíli laughed. "If you have questions, Master Hobbit, come to me, or to Fíli. If it's something we can't tell you, we shall say so. Otherwise, we will answer as well as we can. Is that fair?"

Bilbo nodded quickly. "More than fair; thank you. I thought - my understanding was that you lived in Ered Luin."

"Sometimes," Kili agreed. "Sometimes not. Thorin went where there was work for him, and sometimes we followed him. Sometimes the Men of the towns turned against us and we were forced to leave."

"I am sorry."

"It was harder for him. Fíli and I have never known Erebor, or anything but each other. We missed none of it."

"Still."

Kíli smiled, clapping the back of Bilbo's shoulder gently. "We are dwarves, Master Hobbit. We are made strong to endure."

Bilbo nodded, still watching the river. "Why are you fighting for Erebor? If it's not - if you didn't miss it?"

"It's home," Kíli said automatically, and then shook his head. "No, that's not...wait a moment."

He thought about it carefully, more carefully than he usually did. He'd never actually had this discussion before; he'd rarely spoken to anyone who wasn't a Dwarf for longer than it took to negotiate payment for whatever piece of metalwork or animal skin he was selling. And amongst Dwarves, this was simply understood; it didn't *need* to be discussed, any more than the colour of the sky did.

"Thorin is our king," he said finally, still feeling his way through the words. "Fíli and I are his heirs; we have a duty, a responsibility, to our people. And our people deserve a home. They deserve a place that's theirs, where they can follow our ways and our customs without fear, where the dwarflings can grow in peace. Erebor was that, and it will be that again."

"You can't – forgive me, if this is rude – you can't make a home elsewhere? Erebor is not your ancestral home either."

Kíli shook his head. "Think of the Shire," he said slowly, "think of it destroyed. Armies or dragonfire or pestilence, it doesn't matter; but destroyed. And all your people, your Hobbits, safe, but somewhere else. You could find a new hill, and build a new Hobbit hole, and keep all your people around you, but it wouldn't be home. It wouldn't be the Shire, not the way you wanted it to be. Not the way you needed it to be. The young Hobbits, they wouldn't know the difference, maybe. But you'd know. In your bones, and in your heart, you'd know that you were not home." He stopped, a little shaken at the passion in his own words.

"You're a Dwarf of many contradictions, Master Kíli," Bilbo said quietly.

"Makes it easier to underestimate me," Kíli told him easily. More seriously, he added, "Do you understand? Even a little?"

"Yes. I understand. Enough, anyway; I don't want to think about it too much." He shuddered. "It's a brave thing to do for someone else."

"You have family, I've heard you talk about them. Cousins?"

"Everyone in the Shire is cousin to everyone else," Bilbo said dryly.

"And if your cousin needed you – needed _you_ , and no one else – wouldn't you go? I don't think you're the type to sit by. You're proving that here with us."

"I don't know. It's an easy thing to say. Harder to do."

"You're doing it right now."

"I haven't had much time to think about it," Bilbo pointed out. "And I did try to leave."

Kíli waved that away. "You'd have come back."

"Do you think so?" Bilbo asked, almost wistful.

"I'm good at people, Master Hobbit. I watch, you see, when no one's looking at me; silly old Kíli with his tricks and his games. I've watched you. You wouldn't have left us. Not for long."

"Bilbo."

"Pardon?"

"I have a name, Kíli," Bilbo said firmly. "It's Bilbo. I'd like you to use it, please."

Kíli laughed. "It's respect, you know, not teasing."

"I'd rather have your friendship than your respect."

"That's easy enough," Kíli assured him easily. "Kíli and Fíli, at your service, remember."

"I remember."

"What exactly are you two doing?"

Bilbo choked so violently he almost fell over. Fíli, sitting on Kíli's other side as though he'd been there all along, raised an eyebrow at him. Kíli, completely unconcerned, smacked him, reaching to steady Bilbo.

"Cough next time, Fíli," he ordered.

Fíli coughed loudly. "What exactly are you two doing?"

Kíli glanced imploringly at Bilbo, who cleared his throat, resettling himself. "Kíli has very kindly been telling me a little about your customs. I'm hoping I can stop making Thorin angry with me every time I turn around."

"Good luck," Fíli said cheerfully. "It's very easy to make our uncle angry." He caught Kíli's arm, studying it. "Your bracer's sitting wrong."

"I bent a buckle," Kíli said calmly. "When I slipped earlier."

"Bifur'd fix that for you."

"I'll ask him when we get back to camp."

"Don't leave it too long," Fíli warned him. "Uncle won't be happy if you mis-shoot because of it."

Kíli thumped him again. "I can hit any target, bracer or no."

"If you say so," Fíli said innocently. "Have you finished educating our Hobbit, or should I leave you alone again?"

Kíli scowled, standing. "Come along, Bilbo. It's growing cold, and Thorin will be angry if he thinks I'm trying to avoid helping."

"Oh, that's why you've been so helpful," Bilbo said brightly. "I did wonder."

Kíli stared at him for a long moment before laughing, loud and light hearted. Beside him, Fíli smiled, enjoying the joke for just a moment before he turned serious again, shepherding them both back towards the campsite.

Bilbo went to sit by the fire, easily falling into rhythm with Bombur as he prepared the meal. Fíli and Kíli crossed to the packs and began doing something there; after only a few minutes Fíli was laughing, Kíli's voice raised in badly feigned innocence. Balin, sitting near Bilbo, sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Those lads," he murmured.

"It's nice to hear, though, isn't it?" Bilbo said without thinking. Balin lifted an eyebrow, and Bilbo added quickly, "We don't get much chance for fun on this quest. I'm glad they can relax like that. Hobbits believe laughter is good for you."

"Hobbits have sense," Balin allowed, dipping his head towards Bilbo. "Laughter's rare enough among our people."

"Let the lads enjoy it," Bilbo murmured. Balin eyed him sharply, but he just shook his head. "It's a hard road. Let them find joy where they can."

Balin nodded slowly. "You're very wise, Master Hobbit."

"That again," Bilbo said with a snort. "My name is Bilbo, Master Balin. I'd take it as a kindness if you would all please use it."

Over by the packs, Kíli said something that made Fíli cuff him; Kíli fought back, and within moments they were scuffling on the ground. Ori and Bofur lifted whatever they were working on out of the way, and the others stepped over and around them, apparently unaware.

"Something's different about you," Balin murmured, and Bilbo realised he'd been watching them with a fond smile.

"Just trying out a new way of looking at things."

"Aye? And how's that working out for you?"

The mock fight ended with Kíli on top, Fíli laughing too hard to protect himself. Kíli raised his arms in triumph, cheering, and kept cheering even when Fíli dumped him off into the grass. A snapped word from Thorin had both scurrying back to their task, but Fíli was still smiling and Kíli was grinning, wide and unabashed.

Bilbo looked back at Balin. "It's working very well."


End file.
